12 23 95
by badly drawn girl
Summary: Holly is home for the holidays, but it's hard to be happy about it when everyone else is back at Hogwarts, including the person she cares about most. [George/OC]


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. "12.23.95" and its lyrics are property of Jimmy Eat World and Netwerk America. 

Author's Note: Some brief explanation on a slightly perplexing matter. For those who have read Goodbye Sky Harbor, this standalone may prove a bit confusing as to what its relation is to GSH. I wrote this fic in December of '02, just to try out the idea of writing a George/OC. I liked the way it went and wrote another standalone with Holly/Marcus (though I don't think that one will ever see the light of day) in order to get a better feel for her character. From there, I began to write Goodbye Sky Harbor based on the events surrounding both those standalones. So this fic would take place during the course of Goodbye Sky Harbor, kind of as an unmentioned event. Hopefully that clarifies everything.

12.23.95

She sighed for what seemed the millionth time and turned over again in bed.

_He probably forgot._

She knew this, knew it in her heart, but couldn't help but think… maybe…

But, any other explanation was just ridiculous, of course. This was George, after all. Wisecracking, mischievous, devious George. No other explanation was needed. He had forgotten. And no wonder, what with the festivities going on at Hogwarts, the Yule Ball coming up and such, he had simply gotten caught up.

But Holly clung to this faintest thread of hope that he hadn't just forgotten. Because that seemed to cheapen his promise, the promise he'd be thinking of her that night. That he'd send word to her, send anything at all, to let her know she mattered.

Throwing off the covers that had become a twisted mess with her tossing and turning, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and padded quietly to the window seat. The cold wood stung her soles and she quickly settled on the cushioned seat, pulling her knees up to her chin and pressing her forehead against the biting chill of the glass pane. Her breath fogged a small area of the window and she closed her eyes, blocking out the view of the perfectly outlined stars in the cold, crisp, winter sky and the pale white objects outside, trees trapped under inches of snow. But she couldn't shut out the silence. It was pleasant, she decided. The noiseless night was comforting. The whole world was muted under a blanket of white powder and she rather liked it that way. Opening her eyes again she noticed the way the moon reflected on the frozen trees, the branches covered with ice from the sleet that had settled before the snow had come. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she never would have seen it if she had stayed at Hogwarts for the winter holidays. Closing her eyes again and letting her forehead return to lean against the comforting cold of the glass, she smiled slightly. She hadn't considered things in that light before.

Glancing down at the small silver watch on her wrist, the planets and stars on it mirroring what the night sky should resemble that very night. She looked past the luminous balls at the faint numbers, 11:59. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing it was childish but wanting to continue the tradition all the same. Ever since she had been seven years old she had sat on this same window seat and made a wish at exactly 12:00 a.m. on the 24th of December. While still formulating this wish however, she felt the glass tremble and an incessant pounding on the glass. Opening her eyes she saw a familiar owl, Errol, knocking itself against the window desperately. Holly quickly threw open the window and Errol collapsed, wheezing, on the cushions. Bringing back a dish of water for the owl, she settled down again and untied the note from his leg. Opening it with a smile playing on her lips, she recognized the scrawled writing immediately.

Didn't mean to leave you hanging on, all alone.

Merry Christmas, baby.

There wasn't any question, of course, on who it was from. She grinned openly this time.

Looking back down at her watch, she squinted past the planets and stars again to decipher the numbers. 12:02. She'd missed her wish. She sensed, however, that she wouldn't be needing it this coming year.


End file.
